


how i still love you

by ilikeyougreenie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam's a ghost, Endgame Sheith, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Minor Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeyougreenie/pseuds/ilikeyougreenie
Summary: “You can’t help,” Shiro said, after swirling the coffee between his teeth. “There’s nothing to be helped. Everything is fine.”Adam contemplated Shiro for a moment; the dark thumbprints beneath his eyes, the smooth, bare skin of his left ring finger. Everything was distinctly not fine, and Adam had an inkling as to why.(or, ghost adam comes to visit shiro, and tries to help him realise that the life he thinks he wants may not be the right one)





	how i still love you

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! this is an idea that has been bugging me since the disaster that was s8. pls note that the shiro/Curtis is very minor, and is only bc they're engaged! but the sheith is defo endgame, pls don't worry. have a read and you'll see what I mean! :) big thanks to my friend eris for all of her help; this wouldn't be here without u! <3 title is from love of my life by queen!

Shiro awoke in the middle of the night to moonlight streaming in through the windows, falling in a slat across his pillow. His engagement ring - a plain gold band - shone on the bedside table by his glasses, detached prosthetic, and phone, screen devoid of notifications. He blinked and sat up, rubbing sleep from the corners of his eyes and stifling a yawn.

He couldn't help but wonder what had woke him, in the dead of night. It wasn't a nightmare; blessedly, those had become less frequent in the last few years, although still persisted in times of stress or exhaustion. No, not a nightmare, then. Not a call, or a message, or a storm.

Curtis was still sleeping soundly beside him, his back to Shiro like every other night. He muttered something in his sleep and hunched over, tugging a handful of blankets with him and exposing Shiro to the chill in the air.

Shiro shivered, running his hands up and down his arms. Why was it so cold? He was certain that he'd checked the thermostat before going to bed, and it was warm - -

That was when he noticed the figure in the doorway. A familiar figure bathed in a pale blue light that made him look almost ethereal in the darkness.

"A-Adam?" Shiro whispered, blinking over at the man at the door. He appeared unscathed, dressed meticulously in his Garrison uniform, shoes polished to within an inch of their lives. His hair was neat, and his glasses were perched on the end of his nose.

He smiled tightly, and beckoned Shiro forward before disappearing around the door and out into the hall. The faint glow emanating from his limbs followed him as he went, and lit Shiro's path as he slipped out of bed to follow.

He found Adam in the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools at the barren counter. Like the rest of the apartment, the kitchen was unfurnished save for a few necessary appliances. The rest was stacked in cardboard boxes in the corner of the living room.

"What are you doing here?" Shiro asked quietly, hovering in the doorway and watching as Adam's gaze swept over the empty room critically.

"Observing," Adam replied, his cool gaze landing on Shiro after a moment. "Please, Takashi. Come and sit down. I have something I must speak to you about."

Shiro did as instructed, reeling a little from the use of his first name, something he hadn't heard recently. Adam, sensing his surprise, raised a critical eyebrow. Shiro flushed slightly, grasping for an appropriate excuse before deflating beneath Adam's scrutiny.

"I just haven't heard that name in a while," He explained, picking at the gleaming countertop. "That's all."

"You haven't heard your own first name in a while?" Adam deadpanned. "You mean to say that your own fiancé doesn't call you Takashi? He just goes around calling you 'Shiro', like everybody else?"

Shiro shrugged.

"I mean, yeah? What does it matter?"

"It matters not," Adam said with a mimicking shrug. "I simply do not understand why you would allow an acquaintance," He paused, motioning to himself. "To call you a name I once knew to be very intimate and dear to you. A name that your fiancé doesn't use."

Shiro narrowed his eyes at Adam, sensing underlying subtext to his words.

"What are you implying?" He asked carefully, and Adam raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Nothing, as such. Don't get angry with me."

Shiro could feel his blood boiling, the vein on his temple throbbing already.

"I'm not, I just resent your implication-"

"How's Keith?"

Silence fell after Adam's sudden question, Shiro's jaw hanging open but belying no response. Adam's smile was smug, and he rested his chin on his palm as he awaited a reply. Shiro faltered for a few moments longer, before shaking his head.

"He's fine," Shiro said lamely, slouching in his chair. "Why exactly is that relevant?"

Adam shrugged, the picture of nonchalance as he fixed his cuffs and leaned back in his chair.

"It's not exactly relevant, per se. I just imagined that you would be together by now. But never worry, I see you've found your happiness with Curtis." Adam said with an undisguised wince, as though the name left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yes - yes, Curtis and I are very happy together." Shiro offered woodenly, taken aback by the blunt prediction Adam had offered.

"Of course," Adam nodded. "That's why you sound like you have a gun to your head while talking about him," He deadpanned, removing his glasses and wiping the lenses on the hem of his coat. "Why did you agree to marry to him, Shiro? Because you love him, or because it was expected?"

"Well, I love him. Of course I love him. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't." Shiro shrugged, fidgeting with a loose thread on the inseam of his pajama trousers.

"Yes. Of course," Adam hummed, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. "He's bridge crew, isn't he? On the Atlas?"

"Was," Shiro clarified. "He left not long after I did. I decided space wasn't for me anymore. I found my happiness and left the battle behind."

Well, that was painfully rehearsed.

"So you just, what, decided you didn't want to see the stars anymore? And you just left everything behind?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes. "I wanted to settle down, Adam. Why's that so difficult for you to understand?”

"Because you, Takashi Shirogane, are not the type to settle. You never were. It was always your dream to see the stars, to travel the universe and to make history. If you remember, you and I even broke up because of your distaste towards settling down-"

"People change, Adam," Shiro cut in, his voice cold despite the deflation in his posture. "Things change, and people change. I've done more than enough space exploring in the last five years than I ever wanted to do-"

"Bullshit," Adam snorted. "You were in the middle of a war, Shiro. There are no opportunities for respite in the middle of a war. No opportunities for the kind of exploration I know you yearn for."

"Yearned." Shiro clarified, standing and turning his back to Adam. He rummaged in one of the boxes in the corner, the word 'Kitchen' scrawled across the front - and fished out a chipped red mug. He turned back to and fiddled with the coffee machine, shoving said mug underneath and inserting a pod.

Adam observed him as the machine whirred and ticked. Despite the fact that his prosthetic was detached, the port dull and unlit, his movements remained fluid as ever. Everything about Shiro spoke volumes of what had occurred in the years since he had left Earth for Kerberos; his hair, his arm, the scars on his skin and on his mind.

It was plausible that he had changed his outlook; that he had decided that settling down was what he wanted now. If Adam believed that to be true, he wouldn't resent that in the slightest. He wouldn't be here right now; hell, he probably wouldn't have bothered keeping an eye on Shiro for so long.

But that was exactly what he'd done, and he didn't believe that Shiro truly did want to live a cosy life alongside Curtis. Why would he, when he had -

"Adam?"

Adam blinked to find Shiro standing in front of him, a steaming mug in his grip.

"Do you want a coffee?"

"Oh, no," Adam shook his head, adjusting his glasses. "I'm not exactly real, Shiro." He gestured down at himself; the teal glow that emanated from his limbs.

"So, what are you? A ghost? A product of my imagination? Why are you here?" Shiro asked in succession, gripping his mug and taking a slow sip.

Adam sighed, massaging his temples before settling in to answer. "I suppose I'm a ghost. Spirit. Whatever you want to call me. I'm here because I've been keeping an eye on you since I died," Shiro winced at his bluntness. "And I wanted to tell you that I did not die for you to settle-"

Shiro opened his mouth to respond, but Adam raised a finger.

"I'm not finished. I didn't die for you to settle for anything less than you deserve, Shiro. And I'm afraid that is exactly what you're doing. This isn't your style. This isn't /you/. For as long as I've known you, you wanted to spend your life among the stars. You wanted to explore, to pioneer, to inspire. I'm not saying you haven't done that, not by a long shot, but you were only just getting started," Adam sighed, lacing his fingers in his lap. "Perhaps it's not my place to say. But I know you, Shiro. I knew you for a long time, and I can see that you're not happy. You're not happy here, and you're not happy without him."

Shiro opened his mouth to respond, to no doubt launch into another scripted assurance that he was happy with Curtis, but Adam shook his head.

"You're not happy without Keith, are you?"

Shiro's jaw clicked shut.

"I think you should leave, Adam," Shiro said coldly, standing with his fingers curled around his mug. To any other outsider, he would have appeared stoic and unmoving, but Adam noted the tremble in his fingertips, the waver in the cadence of his voice.

Adam sniffed, brushing imaginary dust off his trousers once again. "I will leave if that's what you want, Shiro. But I think we should talk."

Shiro levelled Adam with a look; stubborn at first but waning fast. After a few moments of silence, he sighed and slumped back into his chair, sliding his mug onto the marble counter.

“Alright,” Shiro said, weary beyond his years. He ran his flesh fingers through his silvery locks. “Then talk, Adam.”

Adam sighed, “This isn’t going to be a one-sided conversation. You need to talk to me in return, Shiro. It’s what I’m here for. I want to help.”

Shiro shook his head by way of response, taking a long, slow sip of coffee.

“You can’t help,” He said, after swirling the coffee between his teeth. “There’s nothing to be _helped_. Everything is fine.”

Adam contemplated Shiro for a moment; the dark thumbprints beneath his eyes, the smooth, bare skin of his left ring finger.

Everything was distinctly not fine, and Adam had an inkling as to why.

“Keith worshipped the ground you walked on, Shiro. Everyone could see it,” Adam hummed, tracing his fingertip over the flecks of glitter in the counter. “Things were bad after Kerberos. He just refused to accept that you were really gone, y’know? His scores dropped, as did his discipline, and he ended up beating the shit out of another cadet. The next morning, he was gone. No one knew where he’d gone but all his stuff was missing, and so was your hoverbike. We never saw him again,” Adam shrugged. “I wasn’t stupid. I could see how much you meant to him, we all could. I just didn’t do anything to try and help him, and I’ve regretted that every single day since.”

“Adam-” Shiro whispered, his voice breaking hoarsely. Adam shook his head, however, caught up now in the thread of the story he was telling.

“Then, obviously, you came back. Everyone heard the rumours about how it was Keith Kogane that broke you out of Garrison quarantine. Then you all went missing, and the Galra came to Earth,” Adam tapped his fingertips off the granite. “I won’t bore you with the details of my horrendously predictable demise, but after I died, I found that I could still see things. I could still watch over you all, y’know? Keep an eye on how everyone was doing. I gravitated towards you, but you weren’t exactly conscious at the time. You already had someone else watching over you, anyway,” Adam said quietly, and Shiro choked on what could’ve been a sob. Adam didn’t know for sure. He was preoccupied watching the movement of his fingernails over the marbled veins of the countertop.

“He never gave up on you, Shiro. And you never gave up on him, either. Waiting by his bedside every day while he was in the hospital-”

“I’d never prayed before,” Shiro whispered, wet with unshed tears. “But God, did I pray for him to wake up.”

“And he did. And then you, what? Took fright and pulled away from him? Got engaged to a bridge tech?” Adam countered, his tone soft despite the subject matter.

“He deserves better-”

“Bullshit.”

_“Sh’ro?”_

Shiro whipped around to find Curtis standing at the threshold, yawning and rubbing his bleary eyes with his fist. “Sh’ro, who you talkin’ to?” He asked through a yawn, shuffling over to Shiro on bare feet.

“I, uh,” Shiro eyed Adam wildly as Curtis draped himself over his back. Adam could do nothing else but shrug. He couldn’t be seen if he didn’t wish it: that was about the only advantage to his new lifestyle. “No one, just go back to bed.” Shiro said, patting Curtis’s forearm somewhat awkwardly.

Adam slapped his palm to his face.

“I thought your nightmares had stopped?” Curtis mumbled absently, yawning hot breath over Shiro’s ear.

Shiro was staring at the table, rigid beneath his partner’s touch. “They never stop.” He muttered, inaudible to all but Adam, who winced.

“What’ya say?” Curtis frowned, leaning further over Shiro’s back to try and get a look at his face. “Have you been _crying_?”

“No,” Shiro snapped, rolling his shoulder to try and shake Curtis off. Adam winced; he looked like he was suffocating beneath the weight of so much gone unsaid for too long. “No, Curtis, can you please just-”

“Was it the voices again?” Curtis asked quietly, and Shiro stopped struggling, sagging with his forehead pressed to his hand. Curtis patted his back sympathetically, his hand stilling at the nape of Shiro’s neck. “Oh, Shiro. It’s okay.” Curtis soothed, just on the wrong side of patronising. His tone made Adam’s glowing skin prickle a little.

He didn’t honestly believe that Curtis was a bad guy. He just didn’t understand. Not like Keith did.

“I’m fine,” Shiro whispered, the fight melting from his bones. He looked exhausted – even more so than before – as he lifted his head to look round at Curtis. “I’m fine. Please, just go back to bed. I just, need some time.”

Curtis nodded, withdrawing silently and leaving the room, bare feet padding across the marble floor. He pulled the door shut behind him, and it clicked softly before he retreated upstairs, the second step creaking beneath his feet.

Adam eyed Shiro warily. He was staring at the table blankly, his eyes devoid of any tell-tale emotion.

“That wasn’t too good.” Adam said after a moment, resting his elbows on his thighs as he faced Shiro. He was met with a humourless chuckle, red-rimmed, raw eyes flickering up to meet his own.

“No. It wasn’t good. It hasn’t really been good for a while,” Shiro explained, voice hoarse and throat thick with the clog of emotion he was holding back. “I havent been good for a while. Not since-” He stopped, shivering as he rubbed his flesh hand over the dull metallic port on his right shoulder. “Not since the facility, I don’t think. Maybe before then.”

“The facility?” Adam asked quietly, as unthreatening as he could manage. He didn’t want to pry, but the ripple of emotion that crossed Shiro’s face at the mere word spoke volumes of what he had been through.

Shiro swallowed, as though steeling himself for what he was about to share. Adam reached out, cool fingertips closing around Shiro’s hand and squeezing gently, shooting him an encouraging smile.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to…” He trailed off quietly, and Shiro shook his head.

“No. I want to,” Shiro sighed, turning his hand and clasping Adam’s tightly, seeking support in the contact. “This body, it isn’t mine. It belongs – belonged – to a clone that the Galra created of me. One of many. My consciousness was trapped inside the black lion while my clone paraded as me among the rest of the team,” Shiro let out a breath, his fingers trembling around Adam’s. “He lured Keith to a cloning facility. There was a fight. A horrible fight. I – he – _marked_ Keith,” Shiro shuddered, curling in on himself. “Keith fought back. He managed to incapacitate the clone, and Allura transferred my soul into this body. But I still have all his memories. You have no idea how many nightmares I’ve had about that fight. Me, _burning_ Keith’s skin, _hurting_ him-”

Adam let out a shuddering breath as Shiro choked on a sob, his head bowed and tucked into his chest.

“Shiro-”

“How could I be with him, after that? I _hurt_ him. I would only keep hurting him. I’m fucking _broken_ , Adam. You heard Curtis.”

“Shiro, you are _not_ broken,” Adam said fiercely, shaking his head. “You are a survivor. Look at everything you’ve been through, and you’re still here. You’re still fighting, and you’re inspiring other people to fight. It’s what you’ve always done. And as for Keith? He loves you, Shiro. It’s painfully obvious, and I know that you love him too. You’re only hurting him by pushing him away. What happened at that facility was not you, and Keith knows that. That’s why he still loves _you_ , Shiro. If you don’t want to hurt him, tell him how you feel. Talk to him. Don’t lose him.”

Shiro’s eyes were wet as he turned to Adam, sniffing and wiping his nose on his wrist.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, and Adam huffed out a hot breath.

“Shiro, we might’ve ended badly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you. I was an asshole to you, and I never should’ve tried to force you to choose between me or Kerberos. I want to right my wrongs by helping you find your _true_ happiness. And, no disrespect, but I don’t think that’s with Curtis.”

Shiro gave a small nod, rubbing his thumb over the empty space on his left ring finger.

“Maybe you’re right,” He said quietly. “Maybe – maybe I’ll call Keith.”

Adam smiled, curling his fingers around Shiro’s shoulder and squeezing gently.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”

The pair sat in companionable silence until Shiro’s coffee had long since gone cold, and the sun was crawling upwards onto the horizon. Light began to filter in through the kitchen window, and Adam’s glow had diminished to barely residual.

“I should go,” He murmured. “Y’know, head back to my own dimension.”

Shiro blinked, as if finally registering the rise of the sun, before nodding.

“I suppose so. Thank you, by the way. For everything.”

Adam shrugged, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he stood, smoothing down the front of his uniform jacket.

“You’re welcome, Shiro. I’m always around, if you need me. No bad blood between us, right?” Adam asked, a little tentative as he stuck out his hand to shake. Shiro rolled his eyes fondly, taking Adam’s hand and pulling him forward into a stumbling hug.

“Right. No bad blood.” Shiro said in agreement, stepping away again after a moment and watching as Adam threw up a jaunty salute before turning and fading away into the morning sunlight.

* * *

Shiro’s watch read 5:12am as he headed back upstairs, treading lightly so as not to wake Curtis, who was fast asleep with the covers pulled tight around his body. Shiro sat on the edge of the mattress, staring down at the thick pile carpet beneath his feet.

He didn’t want to hurt Keith. He’d never wanted to hurt him, but he hadn’t been able to help the way they’d been pulled in different directions. Shiro had chosen Earth, while Keith had chosen the stars. The further Keith’s humanitarian work took him, the harder it was to try and stay in touch. What started as a few communications a week had slowly petered out into one a month, and then nothing at all.

Shiro missed him. God, he missed him so much that it hurt.

But there was nothing he could do. So, he’d started casually dating Curtis; or, rather, had _thought_ they’d been casually dating, until three months down the line he had accidentally accepted a nonchalant marriage proposal.

_(Curtis and Shiro were tucked into a booth at the back of a local coffee chain, sipping on festive drinks while scrolling on their phones. The shop was quiet; save for two businessmen and their espressos bickering at the bar, and a girl in the booth behind them. Shiro was currently engrossed in an article detailing the Blade of Marmora’s growth and change into a humanitarian organization, masterminded by Keith himself. Curtis, however, was staring thoughtfully at Shiro and tapping his thumb on his bottom lip._

_“Hey, Shiro?” Curtis huffed slightly, leaning his elbows on the table. Shiro hummed in response, paying little attention as he scrolled past a picture of Keith providing aid alongside Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor. “So, we’ve been together for a while now, and I, I like where things are going, y’know?”_

_Shiro hummed again, casually disinterested in Curtis at the expense of the titillating piece of tabloid journalism currently on his screen._

_“Well, do you want to get married?” Curtis asked in one breath, to a disappointing lack of response from Shiro. His eyes were still glued to his phone, so Curtis nudged his calf and threw him a pointed look. “Hey, Shiro?”_

_Shiro jolted, looking up to find Curtis staring at him with one eyebrow curved upward._

_“Hm? Sure, yeah, whatever.” Shiro nodded, wholly unaware of just what he was agreeing with. It must’ve been something important, however, with the way Curtis grinned at his response._

_“Great,” Curtis winked, and Shiro’s confusion increased twofold. “Well, I’ve got to run, but we’ll talk later, okay?” He asked, sliding out of the booth and draining his peppermint mocha as he did so. “Bye, Shiro!” He called over his shoulder as he jogged out of the coffee shop, leaving Shiro in a state of bewildered confusion. The two girls at the next booth were staring at him, and he turned to them in mild panic._

_“Wait, did - did I just get_ engaged _?”)_

A month later, and with the added upgrade of a ring on his finger, and Shiro still missed Keith; still missed him to the point of pain in his chest whenever he thought about it for too long, or his brain conjured up flashes of burning flesh and free-falling.

Adam had prompted the realisation that he couldn’t go on like this anymore. He was hurting himself; he was hurting Keith; he would be hurting Curtis in the long run. Shiro didn’t want to inflict any more pain where it was undue.

He reached over and picked up his phone, the screen still devoid of notifications. He flicked it on, opened his messages, and began to type.

**To: Keith**

_Hey, Keith. It’s Shiro. When are you back on Earth?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading! hope you enjoyed :) comments/kudos are much appreciated! <3


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